Pas de Deux
by khaleesimaka
Summary: Maka is one of the ballet students at Death City Academy of Dance, and she is the best dancer in her year. Her technique and skill are flawless, but her only problem comes when she looking for a partner. One day, her teacher brings in Soul Evans. She thinks he'll be difficult but she couldn't be more wrong.
1. A Dance Between Lovers

**A/N: Rating is for excessive cussing on Soul's part and a later chapter**

**A Dance Between Lovers**

For as long as Maka could remember, she'd always been fascinated by the culture that surrounded the art of dancing. When she was three years old, her mother bought her a pair of pink ballet shoes and enrolled her in Death City Academy for Dance, one of the most prestigious school's in Nevada. There she learned the different ways to contort her body to perform a specific move and spent days and nights at home perfecting her technique. It became an addiction to the point where dancing seeped through her dreams making her crave more of it.

For her tenth birthday, her parents bought her tickets for the ballet, the only thing they heard for years on end was how much their daughter craved to see real performers dance. However, not even they could know the effects the performance would have on their young daughter. The ballet dancers enchanted her. Their motions were fluid and graceful like swans as they traveled across the stage and Maka wanted nothing more than to be one of them some day. The years that followed the performance found her practicing her technique, making sure her feet went where they were supposed to on pirouettes and her toes curled just right to give her foot a beautiful curve on her grande allegros. The only true problem she had with dance came in the form of finding the right partner.

Her teacher tried pairing her with every boy in her age group (there really weren't that many) that attended the dance academy, but every last one of them did not suit Maka's needs. She needed a partner who could learn how she moved and would move with her like they were one body, one mind, and one soul. However, none of the boys fit that criteria. She continued stomping on toes, kneeing crotches and slapping faces until one day her teacher brought in a boy who was two years older than her.

His name was Soul Evans, one of the best students in his year, and when she first met him it was out in front of the academy when she accidentally bumped into him. At first glance he appeared to be an elderly man due to his stark white hair, but when she looked closer at his build and facial features she noted how young he really was. He didn't show any trace of emotion other than boredom when she profusely apologized for knocking him over. Instead he just brushed himself off, stared at her with droopy red eyes, and gave her a small smirk before walking into the building. They didn't really get off on the right foot, and even when the instructor introduced them Maka could tell he would be difficult to dance with.

But even with that notion in mind, she still tried to get along with him. He was her last resort when it came to finding a partner, and with him being the best in his class she had to try. However, her simple belief turned out to be wrong. Dancing with Soul came easy to her. His movements complimented hers and guided her across the floor. She didn't step on his toes or knee him in the crotch or slap him in the face like the other boys before him. It was surprising, to say the least.

The only problem she found in him was his snarky attitude. He didn't hold back when it came to criticizing how she danced, and everything she did seemed like it wasn't good enough for him. Her grande allegros weren't high enough, pirouettes weren't smooth enough, her pas de bourree didn't flow just right for him. Every little thing was critiqued when he was around. Of course she knew in the back of her mind he only did it to help her improve, but he did it in that pretentious little tone of his that she found quite annoying. His voice vibrated through her chest, leaving a sickening feeling in its wake, and made her want to reach out and strangle him.

"You're too stiff," he said in that bored, know-it-all tone she was far too familiar with by now.

Maka looked at his reflection in the mirror, secretly hoping she could kill him with her murderous glare. "What's that supposed to mean? I've been dancing for the last fourteen years of my life, and I am not stiff."

"And I've been doing this for two more years than you." Soul walked over to where she stood. "Apparently no one has had the guts to tell you how much your movements resemble that of a robot."

"That's because I'm a fantastic dancer. No one has ever criticized me."

He breathed out heavily out of irritation and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Your technique is great, and you have the right build for a ballet dance, but your problem is that your dancing is too frigid. Relax your shoulders and don't think about what you're doing. Do you actually feel the music?"

"I feel it just fine." She shook her shoulders away from him grasp. She wanted to hate this boy, but the way her stomach squirmed when he touched her made it hard to do that.

Soul stepped away from her, nodding his head. "Alright then I'm gonna put on some music and I want you to show me what you feel."

She turned to watch him walk toward the portable speaker to plug his phone into it, admitting to herself that if he rid himself of the snotty little attitude she might find him attractive. On this particular day he wore black sweatpants rolled up to the knee and a grey tank top that accentuated his back muscles perfectly and revealed the scar across his chest he received from a motorcycle accident a few months earlier. He didn't have the same small frame as the other male dancers at the academy, but he was still a superb dancer. Admitting he was attractive and a wonderful dancer left a sour taste in Maka's mouth but also made her heart clench up, and a warm tingling feeling crawl across her chest. It was the same reaction she had all those years ago when she watched her first ballet performance.

Maka prepared herself for him to put on one of his favorite classical songs - it was always his go to music when they practiced - but what met her ears was not the calm sound of Tchaikovsky. Instead, the music he played was something one would find in a ballroom competition.

"How the hell am I supposed to dance to this? I've only been trained in ballet and you know that!" Maka yelled.

Soul turned off the music and glared at her. "Well, now I know where your real problem lies. If you've only ever done ballet, how the hell do you expect to be a real dancer?"

She stormed over to him and poked him in the chest which he swatted away. "I am a real dancer! Just because I don't know how to do ballroom dancing doesn't make me any less of a dancer. I love ballet and that's the only type of dancing I want to do."

"If you want to be a great dancer, you have to know all of the different genres. How can you advance in your performance if you only stick with one thing?" Suddenly, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him so that their pelvises were inches apart, placing her left arm around his shoulder and taking her right hand in his. "Here, I'll show you."

"But I don't know-"

"Just follow my lead."

He stepped back, pulling her forward by the waist, and began leading them in a ballroom dance routine she was only familiar with from watching it on tv. Maka made to look down at their feet but Soul whispered "don't look down" and removed his hand from her waist to pick her chin up so that she was looking at him. She couldn't help to notice how red his eyes looked, reminding her of the crimson mug she used for her morning tea, or the small scars that littered his face that weren't noticeable from a distance, resisting the urge to reach out and touch them.

They continued to glide across the practice room floor, Soul leading her in each step in a way that she wouldn't have under other circumstances. They really did work well together, both on and off the dance floor. She only knew this because her instructor said that if they were to be partners, then they would have to spend some time together away from the studio which they did on their lunch breaks. If she really wanted to be honest with herself, she would admit that there was something about him that intrigued her. She wanted to study him like one of the dance books she spent countless hours bent over when she was younger. She wanted to know him better, understand what made him tick.

Which was the most plausible explanation for what she did next.

She didn't know what part of her brain told her to do it. When they were done dancing, they stood in the middle of the dance floor and spent a good ten minutes staring at each other. Maka could hear her blood pounding in her ears, and her heart thumping against her chest. Soul moved as if to break apart from her, but before he could she cupped his cheeks between her hands, leaned up, and kissed him. It was a completely chaste kiss that was never supposed to happen, and surprised both of them. She opened her eyes wide, similar to his, and moved away from his mouth, flinging her hands to the side of her body.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me! I'm gonna leave now!" Maka felt the blood rushing to her face as she turned to grab her dance bag by the mirrors and rushed out of the room, refusing to look back at him.

She cursed herself all the way home, beating herself up over a stupid mistake. She had no right to kiss her dance partner like that, no right at all. They're relationship was strictly a partnership, possibly on the verge friends, but that belief was wiped from her brain now. Soul would definitely go to the head of the institution and request a partner change. At this point she would never be able to show her face there again. This was definitely one of the most embarrassing things to happen to her during her short sixteen years, including the time she fell down the steps and flashed her underwear to the world.

In Maka's haste to leave the dance room, she didn't notice the smile on a still stunned Soul.


	2. When Dancers Collide

**When Dancers Collide**

The ghost of her lips on his still lingered, and the memory swirled around his mind as he tried to make sense of what happened. For the last three months of their partnership he'd been trying to fight off his feelings for her, continuously pushing them down in the deepest parts of his mind, because if he didn't he might act on them. But then she kissed him out of nowhere and it felt nice. He wanted to kiss her back, wrap his arm around her waist to pull her closer, and twist his fingers in her hair, but she moved away before he could think of what to do next. Then she said something and was gone. There was too much going on in his mind for him to fully register what happened until he heard the door slam shut.

Soul shook himself out of the stupor, rid his face of the idiotic grin by replacing it with his usual scowl, and looked around the dance room for the blonde in question. Upon seeing she left the room, he rushed to the door and looked down the hall in time to see her ponytail swish around the corner of the hall. "Maka!" he yelled but to no avail. He punched the door and let out a small "fuck me". He should have fucking kissed her back instead of standing there like a fucking dumbass. Now she probably thought he wasn't interested in her at all which was the farthest from the truth.

He walked back into the room, grabbing his gym bag along the way to place his speakers and phone in it, not bothering to change out of his current clothes. Soul was on a mission now. He stormed out of the school, ignoring the other students he bumped along the way, and mounted his motorcycle in the academy's parking lot. Once out of the lot, he drove down the path he knew so well from all the weeks and months he spent dropping Maka off at her house.

Since she left before he could offer her a ride, he figured she would either take the bus or ask one of her friends at the academy to take her home. Depending on if the bus would be on time today, Maka would arrive home in about thirty minutes, but if her friend took her home it would be a fifteen minute ride. Either way she had about a ten minute head start and would be there before him, which also meant he needed to decide on what he would say to her during the short bike ride there.

Maka found her friend Kim in the school parking lot and asked the pink haired girl for a ride home, luckily she was leaving the academy at the same time.

The first thing she did when she arrived home was to go straight to her room, ignoring the loving words her Papa sent her way. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear any of it. Not unless it came from him. But he would never confess his feelings to her because there weren't any. The kiss was stupid and never should have happened. That wasn't the kind of person she was. She didn't go around kissing boys out of nowhere and she was definitely not the type of girl who let down her defenses like that. Soul Evans was trouble, if anything were to happen between them it would only end in heartbreak. At least that's what she had come to expect from any and all boys.

For years her own father cheated on her mother, claiming he loved her and would do anything for her but it was all a lie. If he truly loved her Mama, he would have never slept with all those other women and came home right after work instead of going straight to the cabaret. For the last six years of her life, Maka built a defense wall to protect her heart from the cruel intentions of the opposite sex, and in one moment it came crumbling down.

A part of her hoped Soul would be different, but a larger part didn't want to take that risk. That same part also reminded her that if he did feel the same way toward her, he would have kissed her back. But he was strictly her dance partner and those kind of notions were silly and irrational, or at least was meant to remain only that. In one quick moment, all of that changed. She wasn't sure what would happen next if he did decide to destroy their partnership.

Maka changed out of practice attire, opting for a grey oversized sweater and black shorts, grabbed her iPod and headphones, and plopped face down on her bed. Sticking the little buds into her ear and plugging the cord into the music player, she blasted Deadmau5 wanting nothing more than to escape from the world for at least an hour. She wanted to forget the accidental kiss she planted on Soul's lips and the fact that come the next day she might find herself partner less again. She wanted to remove all thoughts of Soul from her mind, from that gruff voice to the warmth of his hands on her sides to his tousled white hair. For just one hour she wanted to pretend Soul Evans didn't exist.

About twenty minutes in, a loud knocking on her bedroom door interrupted her escapism. "Maka!" It was father. "Are you awake?"

She rolled onto her back and swung her legs over the bed so that she was sitting on the edge. "Yeah, I'm up. What do you want?" The bile taste in her mouth couldn't be controlled even if she tried. Six years passed since her parents divorce and she still couldn't find it in herself to forgive the man on the other side of the door.

"There's someone here to see you. Says he's a dancer from the academy."

Soul must have worked fast on switching partners. "Tell him I'll be right down."

She waited until her fathers footsteps on the stairs disappeared before pushing herself off the bed. Maka walked toward the mirror on the other side of her room to make sure she looked at least half decent. This new partner wouldn't be her partner for long. Since the time her father said it was a boy at the door, she'd already decided she would quit dancing. Whoever this new partner was, it would never work out. There was only one person who was perfect for her as far as partners went and that person obviously didn't want to be her dance partner anymore. If Soul didn't want to dance with her, what was the point of even trying anymore?

Deep down she knew it was a stupid to quit the one thing she loved all because of a careless mistake with a boy, and to throw away the one connection she still retained with her absentee mother. But she tried working with others before him and he was the only who complimented her. She would never admit it out loud, but Soul was the best dancer and the perfect partner for her.

She left her bedroom and walked down the stairs expecting to deliver the upsetting news to the newcomer, but when she opened the front door her heart stopped. Standing on her porch was not another student but the physical entity of the boy running around in her thoughts. Soul's hair was even more tousled than usual from the bike ride, and he still wore his practice clothes which meant he didn't bother changing before coming over, something that rarely if ever happened. He was the type of person who didn't want anyone to know he was a dancer.

"Can we talk?" He asked, throwing his patience out the window and going in for the kill.

Maka looked toward the kitchen, noting her father trying to discreetly listen to their conversation but failing. Her and Soul became partners about eleven months ago, and in between that time she never told her Papa that her dance partner was male. If he knew about Soul he would most definitely flip out and follow her around everywhere. The very last thing she needed was for her him to follow her around like an overbearing parent.

She turned back toward Soul. "Can we talk outside? It's a bit more private."

"Um, yeah sure." He stepped down from the porch to allow her to step outside and close the door.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, both looking everywhere else but at each other. Neither one wanted to be the first person to say something even though they both knew where this conversation would go.

"What did you want to talk about?" Maka finally broke the silence. She would rather get this over with the same way a person would a band aid, quickly so that the pain didn't last as long. But the more rational part of her brain told her the pain of what was to come would last longer

He rubbed the back of his neck and appeared to be more interested in the flowers in front of her house rather than her. "That kiss earlier." She felt her body go cold as the blood drained from every portion of it even though she knew what was coming. "Why'd you do it?" He looked at her for the first time since she stepped outside, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

She flicked her tongue out to wet her lips before answering, begging her heart to stop pounding against her chest. "It was stupid. I-I never should have done it. I'm sorry. Can we just forget it ever happened?" She tried sending a silent plea through her eyes but he shook his head instead.

"No, you did it for a reason. You wouldn't have done it because of nothing, you aren't like that. So why the fuck did you kiss me?" His face scrunched up like he was in pain. "I didn't mean for that to come out as rude as it did."

Maka nodded. She couldn't tell him the reason behind the kiss, she'd rather throw herself in traffic than admit her feelings for him. "I swear it doesn't matter, Soul. I just want us to forget it ever happened." She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm leaving the academy anyways. I'm turning in my resignation letter tomorrow so you can partner up with someone else."

"Huh?" Confusion was etched across his face. "What the fuck do you mean you're leaving the academy? Are you quitting? And what's this about me getting another partner?"

It was Maka's turn to look confused. "Don't you want to find another partner after what happened today?"

"You think I wanna find a new fucking partner?" He combed his hands through his hair and looked at her like she was crazy. "Maka, you're the first fucking girl that's actually worked well for me as far as partners go. I don't wanna find another partner just because you fucking kissed me. The only girl I want as my partner is you."

She couldn't believe it. The same things she wished for less than half an hour ago was actually happening - not in the exact words she imagined, of course. Soul didn't want to desert her because of a foolish mistake, but where did that leave the kiss? People don't go around pretending a kiss didn't mean anything or didn't happen. She had to know for her own personal reasons.

"So where does that leave the kiss? We can't pretend like it never happened, at least I know I can't." She chewed on her bottom lip as she awaited his answer.

He took a deep, calm breath. "I liked it," he mumbled under his breath.

Maka took a step closer. "What? I didn't hear you."

"I said I fucking liked it. I've liked you for a while. I never said anything before because it's not cool to just blurt out how you feel about someone...kind of like what I just did." He glanced up at her and he reflected her stunned expression. "Unless, of course, you didn't mean it and the kiss really was a mistake then I take it back."

A smile broke across her face as she took a step closer to him and for the second time that day pulled him down for a kiss, but this time it was not a mistake. Unlike the first time, he kissed her back as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulling their lower halves closer to each other. His other hand found it's way tangled in her hair, deepening the kiss. She could taste the aftermath of the peppermint he sucked on earlier after lunch and thought maybe she could learn to love it if it meant they would do more kissing.

They broke apart, both high on giddiness and excitement from being able to release their repressed feelings for the last few months. Soul thought that maybe starting a relationship with this girl wouldn't be that bad. Maka thought that maybe this boy wouldn't turn out to be like her father and could indeed be loyal to only one person. They worked well together and knew the other better than others in the their lives, including close relatives. They both shared in the silent thought, as they continued to stare at each other with goofy grins on their face, that maybe this was the beginning of something beautiful

Neither one bothered to pay attention to the red haired man watching them from the window.


	3. First Dance Meeting

**A/N: I'm aware this isn't what y'all wanted, but I'm doing something a little different with this one.**

* * *

**First Dance Meeting**

**Eleven Months Ago**

Maka was located in the dance room, her feet poised in fifth position, watching her reflection in the wall to wall mirror as she made sure her posture was absolutely perfect, her hands perfectly curved as she kept her thumbs hidden, toes pointing toward either side of her; it was completely perfect. Yes, she may be boring and completely plain when she was outside of the dance academy, roaming the halls of Death City High told her enough thanks to the snide remarks from the more popular girls. But none of that mattered when she was in her practice wear. She felt beautiful in her black capri jazz pants and spandex cross back top, and the cool wood floor was comforting as her barefeet would scrape across as she did a leap.

Dancing was home for her and she didn't want anything to ruin it for her.

There was a knock at the door, startling Maka out of her dance position and whirl around to see who had interrupted her concentration. The door creaked open and her instructor Miss Marie popped her head inside, a warm smile plastered on her face. She was a kind woman and taught Maka everything she knew, praising every little thing she did and helping her perfect every move she made.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Maka gave a cordial nod, returning the woman's smile. However, Miss Marie didn't walk in right away. Instead she turned back to the hallway, saying something inaudible to a person standing outside, before entering the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. Maka studied the woman, knowing she had news for the younger girl since she rarely came in to see her after Maka left her class to take on independent practice three years ago, noting that behind the sweet and innocent smile there was a hidden agenda.

"Hello, Maka. How have you been?" the older woman asked as she crossed her hands in front of her pelvis.

"I've been good. How about you?"

"Good. Thank you for asking." Marie took a step forward, her face changing into a more concentrated, less formal one, indicating that the small talk was over. "Do you remember when we spoke a few months ago about finding a partner for you?"

Maka nodded. Of course she remembered. Her and Miss Marie spent months trying to find her someone to dance with, every single one of them ending in complete failure. The boys didn't adhere to her dance moves, always wanting to do their own thing as they did a ballet duet, not standing in the correct position when she did a leap which earned a few bruises that had yet to heal, her elbow and the underside of her arm was scattered with yellow and purple marks. She wanted to tell her instructor that it was useless, and maybe she could find someone who could work when she furthered her dance education in the years to come, but the older blonde spoke before Maka could say a thing.

"I think I found someone who'll work well with you." Her smile was conspiratory which made Maka feel uncomfortable. She'd never seen the woman with that kind of smile, the gleam in her eye unreadable. Maka didn't know how she would feel about this partner.

Miss Marie turned and walked out to the hallway. Maka heard her speaking to the boy outside, their voices echoing off the tile walls. Her instructor's sweet voice remained calm and stable even as the other one grew furious as the seconds went by, his stronger one more comprehensible. He didn't _want _to be partnered with a pathetic younger girl who was probably clueless on the first thing about dance, and he certainly didn't want to be stuck in the academy for another two years.

Maka's blood began to boil. This _boy _didn't even know the first thing about her; _she _didn't even know what he _looked _like. _He _could have been the pathetic one of the two for all she knew. What made this boy even think she wanted to be partnered with _him_? She was being forced into this the same way he was, shared in the same feelings he had about this whole situation, but she would _at least_ give him a chance. Not rant in the hallway about someone she didn't even care about while they were standing in the next room, clearly able to hear every syllable of every rude word he uttered.

She already didn't like this boy.

She wanted him to fall in a ditch, no, better yet, the Grand Canyon, and disappear from this world for good.

No one would get away with little snide remarks about someone they barely knew. At least she gave them a chance to prove her first impression of them wrong.

A few minutes later, Miss Marie walked in followed by the boy. Maka's heart gave a small jolt as she recognized him as the _same _boy she bumped into just that morning on the stairs of the academy. His unnaturally white tousled hair was pulled back away from his face with a headband that was pinned down giving off the aura that he was a real dancer - a fact further proven thanks to the dance attire he wore - compared to his appearance that morning. However, the bored, droopy eyes and permanent scowl in his face was entirely the same; unwelcoming.

"This is Soul Evans. He's two years older than you, but he was the best in his class. I think you'll work well together," Marie said with a small smile.

Maka did the math quickly in her head, and noted there was something wrong here. He shouldn't _still _be at the academy if he graduated two years ago, unless he was some creep who stuck around hitting on younger girls. "So what exactly is he still doing here if he graduated two years ago?" She gave him a skeptical once over, taking a small step away from him. If he was a creep, she would definitely put him in his place if he tried anything. Maka may _seem _small, but she was anything but weak.

Soul glared at her. "I don't think that's any of your business," he practically growled.

"It is if we're going to be partnered together! You might be a creep or something." She challenged, raising her chin and straightening her body as she braced herself in front of him; for what she wasn't completely sure.

He raised his finger to her, pointing it in her direction as anger flashed in his crimson eyes. "I'll have you know I've been at this damn academy far longer than your prissy little ass has, and I could dance fucking circles around you, tiny tits." Maka flinched at the insult, the urge to punch his lights out overwhelming her as her fingers twitched to form a fist, getting read to do so if the situation called for it. She glanced toward Miss Marie who appeared to unphased by his cursing and insults, the same smile still plastered on her lips. "There's no fucking way I'm one of those perverts, either. The fucking headmistress is my-"

He cut himself off, the words that would have followed his outburst registering in his brain as he took a step away from her (when did he even move closer to her?). She saw his pupils dilate, the panic evident in his face as he searched hers, making sure she didn't figure out the rest of his sentence.

"I can see you two are well acquainted now," Marie smiled. Maka looked at the woman questioningly. Did she honestly think their little dispute was anything but cordial? "I'll just leave you two alone now."

Miss Marie left the room, closing the door behind her while Maka stood in her place dumbfounded. Was she really expected to dance with this rude ass boy? He'd only been in the room for five minutes, _at least_, and they were already on ends with each other, ready to rip the others throat out. This was not what she expected when Marie announced she would be looking for someone the younger blonde could dance with.

She returned her attention to Soul who was watching her, seeing what exactly she would do next. Maka assumed he was making sure she wouldn't lunge at him for verbally attacking her, which wouldn't be far from the truth.

"I guess we're stuck together," she said matter of factly, trying to bring some civilization to their conversation.

"Well aren't you an observant little girl. Glad nothing can get passed you." And his snide, uncaring remarks were back much to her dismay.

However, she was done with the way he was treating her. She was a pretty damn good dancer, who paid quite a bit of money for private lessons, and worked her ass off to be able to even practice in a room that wasn't filled with other dancers so if asking for a little respect was too much for him, well, he could just leave. "Look, you can be rude all you want, but save it for when we aren't in here, okay? If you and I are meant to be dance partners, we should at least be a little cordial with each other, got it?"

"Fine." He walked toward the bench that sat in the corner of the room and sat down, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at her. "Why don't you show me what you got? If I'm gonna be partnered with you then I'd like to make sure you have at least _some_ talent."

She blinked. "What makes you think I even want to? You're the one who should be dancing _for me_."

"Nah, I don't think so. I'm the one who has seniority here, _and_ I'm the better dancer out of the two of us. You should be grateful I'm even giving you the time of day."

"You really are a pretentious ass, you know?"

"I'm so touched that you'd say such loving words to me," he said, placing his hand over his heart and faking admiration. His whole act made her blood boil over and the urge to strangle him came back to her.

She stomped over to the radio, mumbling about pretentious little boys who had a stick stuck up their ass and a silver spoon in their mouth under her breath, and pressed play, the music of Vivaldi reaching her ears as she walked to the middle do the room. Maka stood there for about a minute, her eyes closed as she allowed her body to be taken over by the music and mulling over the dance routine she wanted to show Soul. When she opened her eyes again, it was only her in the room. There was no audience or the chatter of the other students outside; it was only her, and the music she held so dear to her heart.

She flung her body across the room, using the space to advantage, showing off each of the different moves she knew, and how well she could do them, trying her best to prove Soul Evans wrong. Her grande allegros were just as she imagined them to be, her body flying high into the air as her legs thrust out in front of her and her feet curved beautifully. Her fouettes perfect as she swung her leg out to bring herself around and around as she kept her focus on one spot in the back of the room so she wouldn't get dizzy. Her moves were exquisite, marking each one perfectly, and making sure not a single part of her body was out of place; her body curving just right and her leg muscles stronger than ever. From the small glimpses she caught from the mirror as she moved around the floor, she reminded herself of a fairy, or some other mystical creature that was frail and delicate. Her dream of being a wonderful dancer was finally coming true, and she couldn't be happier.

Her only wish was that her mother were still around to see her progress.

When she finished, Maka turned to look at Soul, waiting expectantly for his critique. She only expected him to praise her, informing her his initial beliefs were wrong.

But when he spoke, her heart broke at his words.

"That was terrible," he said with a straight face.

She waited for him to continue, but when there was nothing else, she was dumbfounded.

Maka blinked, her breathing heavy as she tried to catch her breath, and mouth falling open slightly. Throughout all the years of her dance career, she never heard someone say it was terrible. Of course people would critique her negatively, but it was always constructive; telling her what she could do to make herself better. They didn't just flat out criticize her. "Excuse me?"

"You're dancing, it's terrible." Soul stood up and walked toward her, his arms remaining crossed on his chest, and looked at her down his nose, eyes scrutinizing her, making her feel smaller than she was. "You aren't _feeling _the music."

And those were the exact words she would hear weeks on end for months that followed their fateful meeting, and each time it would crush her spirit just a little bit more until she couldn't take it anymore, lashing out at him when he pushed too far.

It was complete hell and her perfect little dance world was ruined.


	4. Dance Dilemma

**A/N: I only have one part finished after this then I'm taking a break with this AU until resbang is over. Also, thank you to professor-maka for betaing this for me.**

**Dance Dilemma**

Maka wanted to keep her relationship with Soul a secret from her father for as long as possible, but a week after their kiss, Spirit asked his daughter about him, having seen the kiss itself. Needless to say, it lead to one of the most awkward dinners she had ever experienced in her life. Spirit consistently asked Soul what his intentions with Maka were and if he was going to do anything with this life, and once he found out that her boyfriend was two years older than her, that was when things went ballistic. Her father kept shouting about how it was illegal for them to be dating, when really it wasn't since Maka would be turning eighteen in less than a month and they weren't doing anything sexual, but it didn't matter to Spirit. When Soul was finally able to leave the Albarn residence, without Spirit bounding after him, that was when her father finally calmed down.

And Soul never entered the Albarn residence afterwards.

He didn't really have much to complain about, though, because his parents found out about them - Soul wasn't completely sure how since he lived in his own apartment - and requested that Maka come over for dinner one night.

When she went over to his house, the whole ordeal was not any better - it was possibly even worse.

When she went over to his house, the whole ordeal was not any better - it was possibly even worse.

"Is that really what you're wearing?" he asked when she emerged from her home. Maka looked down at her outfit; it was a short, simple black dress that clung to her body and showed off her shoulders, the skirt flaring out near her hips, reaching just above her knees, and black flats on her feet.

"You said to dress casual formal and that's what I did."

He placed his hand on his forehead, massaging his temples. "Fine. You look fine. If you change we'll be late and… I'd rather not piss of my parents."

Maka walked the small distance from where she stood toward him, gently cradling his face in her hands, forcing him to look up at her. "Everything's going to be alright, okay? We only have to be there for an hour or so, right?" He nodded. "Then we'll be fine, you'll be fine. And I'll be by your side the whole time."

He gave a small nod before moving away from her to mount his bike. She followed suit, tucking her dress underneath her rear and thighs before wrapping her arms around his waist, giving him a reassuring squeeze as they rode off into the night. Soul was nervous about the whole ordeal they were heading into, a fact she knew by the way he'd been fretting all week about the dinner, telling her what to wear, how to speak, which dinner utensil to use for what meal; she would have thought he were taking her to a fancy restaurant if she didn't know any better.

Once they arrived at his parents home, however, she started second guessing about the fancy restaurant idea because the house wasn't really a house in the traditional sense, more similar to a mansion than anything. There were three stories from what she could see, a circular patio sitting above the front door which was held up with two marble columns, the mixture of gray bricks standing out against the white paneling of the various windows in the front of the house, there was even a water fountain in the middle of the half circle driveway. There were also a many different rose bushes outlining the walls of the home, two green shrubs sitting in the corners, giving it more of a victorian feel. It was completely breathtaking, she had never seen a home look so elegant and beautiful in her entire life; not even the academy was crafted with such detail.

She felt Soul standing next to her and turned her head to look at him, seeing that he was staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "You should probably close your mouth, though, wouldn't want any bugs to ruin your appetite." She playfully swatted his arm before placing her hand on his elbow.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. It's only my parents. I'm sure I can handle this." His eyes told a different story, however, as she read the fear and panic in them. Soul didn't say another word, leading them to the front door, and knocking. They stood there for a few minutes, neither one saying a word, until the door was pried open, a man that looked to be in his mid-twenties appearing behind it. He was a few inches taller than Soul, his blonde hair far more tame compared to Soul's, and his honey brown eyes sparkling at the sight of the two of them as his lips tugged up at the corners to show off his perfectly straight, white teeth.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Haven't seen you come around here since you left home." The man pulled Soul towards him, giving the younger man a very tight hug. "What brings you here, little brother?"

Maka's eyes bulged at the affectionate term, looking more closely at that man to see if he did resemble her boyfriend in some way. They had the same strong jawline, the same drooping eyes - although the older man's were far more vibrant and alive - and they did have the same body build, but everything else - the hair and eye color, even their skin tones - were vastly different. If she were a random stranger, she would think they were old friends rather than brothers.

"Cut it out, Wes." Soul pushed himself away from his brother, brushing his hands over his suit has he smoothed it out. "Can't you act like a civilized person for at least once in your damn life?"

"Eh, don't mind him. He's always been a sourpuss," Wes stage whispered to Maka. "I'm Wes, by the way. Wes Evans."

"I'm used to him by now." Maka took the hand he offered to her, his grasp firm and confident. "I'm Maka. Maka Albarn."

Wes gave a small nod, throwing his brother a knowing look. "So this is the girl. You're his dance partner?" She smiled politely in answer, unsure of where he was going with this. "I've heard so much about you from our mother. She says you're one of the best dancers the academy has had in years."

Maka's heart gave a small jolt at this. "I don't think I've ever met your mother before."

Wes looked back at his brother. "You mean you haven't told her?"

"Told me what?"

"My mom's the head director at the academy," Soul mumbled. "She was also one of the best ballerinas a long ass time ago."

That explained why he was so good.

"Should we go inside and start dinner?" Wes asked after a few minutes of silence.

Maka nodded in response, but Soul remained still, staring at one of the rose bushes next to him, his attention only diverted when she placed her hand on his arm. They followed Wes inside the house, the interior reflecting the exterior, and lead them into the dining room. The walls were painted a light beige, a golden chandelier hanging over the mahogany table that could seat at least five more people. Soul's parents sat near the middle of the table, each messing their own personal devices, not bothering to talk to the other nor acknowledging the new guests.

Wes cleared his throat. "Soul and Maka are here."

His mother was the first to turn around and look at them, smiling as she stood up. "Hi, I'm Eleanor and this is my husband Malcolm. Come,sit down."

She gestured to the chairs next to her and Malcolm. Maka pulled Soul forward by the arm, realizing how tense he was upon seeing his parents again for the first time in months. He hadn't told her why they fell apart, only that it wasn't a pleasant occurrence, but she could tell the feelings he had back then were resurfacing so opted to sit down next to him, between Soul and his father, while Wes took the seat next to Eleanor. His mother lightly rang a small golden bell sitting in the middle of the table and five servants emerged from a door next to the one Wes lead them to, each holding a silver tray and placed what Maka assumed was the appetizer in front of each of the table guests.

So her boyfriend came from this type of family; now she could understand why he was so nervous the whole week.

"So, Maka, how long have you and Soul been together?" Eleanor asked a few minutes after the servants disappeared, shifting through the food on her plate and picking out things she preferred not to eat.

"Erhm, we've been together for about a month now."

"And what exactly do you hope to do once you're finished with high school? Are you going to continue dancing and attend one of the Ivy League schools?" Malcolm asked, catching Maka off her guard. His voice was cold and stern, and he refused to make eye contact with her when he spoke.

"I haven't really thought about it…"

"Why not? My wife tells me you are a fantastic dancer, the top in your class. You should apply to one of the dance schools." He paused, casting a sideways glance toward Soul that wasn't missed by Maka. "You have potential most people would kill for, might as well use it to your advantage."

She felt Soul sit up even straighter than before as he tensed from his fathers words; a not so subtle stab at his son, she could only assume.

She swallowed. "Most people have other priorities they need to settle before thinking about what they want to do for the rest of their life. Or maybe they're just waiting for the right time to do what they really want, which could be something they're good at or something entirely different." Maka gently placed her hand on top of Soul's, turning it over and intertwining their fingers together, giving a gentle squeeze before continuing. "It isn't really a place for you to place judgement."

She turned her gaze toward Soul, his eyes thankful, and he understood what she meant was true, even without knowing what had happened between him and his parents. Maka could tell by the way Eleanor was pleasant when they first arrived, that his relationship with his mother was better off compared to the one he had with his father, who was cold and distant, even as they sat next to him during dinner. Malcolm didn't bother saying much else afterward, hopefully understanding that Maka would defend her partner no matter what awful words he had to say about his son. That wasn't the type of person Soul was, he had ambitions, she knew that, and they didn't fall under what his parents wanted. However, he didn't confirm any of her suspensions until after dinner, when he was dropping her off at home.

"Is that why you left home? You were having issues with your father?"

He leaned on his motorcycle, looking up at the sky. "My father wanted me to attend Rutgers University this year since I was accepted, but I didn't want to… didn't really like that too much."

"Why didn't you go?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

He looked back at her, smirking. "You really have to ask?"

She returned his smile, not needing anymore of an explanation, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Good night."

"Night."

Even with the whole family fiasco, they were still able to dance well together - along with being a decent enough couple. They still had their arguments and moments where they would butt heads, on and off the dance floor, but somehow they made it work. He would critique her constantly on the way she danced when music was involved, telling her she needed to really feel it and portray a story to the audience by using only her body. It annoyed her to no end, but she knew he did it because he wanted her to be better.

He would even help her feel the music by showing her a new ballroom dance at least once a week; her favorite being when he showed her how to tango because of the closeness and the fact that it was the only moment she could fully understand what he meant by feeling the music. The tango itself was an intimate dance, their pelvises were literally on top of each other, and she could feel the familiar heat in the pit of her stomach that appeared when she was close to him. Her heart would pound uncontrollably and her breath would become more ragged, but she could tell their closeness had the same effect on him since his body change mimicked hers. When her leg would sling around his waist, his hand felt like fire against her skin as it traveled along her outer thigh, and when it laid on her lower back, shivers went up her spin.

This was the exact thing Soul meant when he said to feel the music. He wanted her to dance like this every single time she performed, but the only problem was the fact that she did ballet not ballroom. She wasn't like him. She wasn't profound in the musical stylings of dance. She didn't grow up with a renowned dancer as a mother. She was just plain Maka who had great technique when it came to ballet moves.

But even knowing her fault when it came to portraying a story as he so put it, Soul encouraged her to apply to Julliard, one of the best school's in America for dance. Along with filling out an online application and asking two of her teachers for a letter of recommendation, it also required her to send in a video showcasing her technique and a performance that Soul would help choreograph. He applied to the school as well, claiming he wanted to do it for years even though when they first met he told her he the complete opposite. But it didn't really matter, she was just glad they would be close to each other.

The months that followed their submissions, they spent a majority of their time waiting to hear back from the school so they could sign up for auditions later on in the year at Death City Academy.

They didn't have to wait too long to hear back. In February, when they sent in their application, Julliard sent them acceptance letters and a schedule of when the auditions would take place and the requirements for them. Suddenly, majority of their time would be spent in the dance studio instead of outside of it.

Until it came time to celebrate Soul's birthday.

The event came the day before their audition. Maka planned on taking him to his favorite restaurant and then spending the rest of the night bowling since it had been weeks since they were actually able to have fun. All work and no play was boring for the both of them; she knew they both needed to let loose before their audition, and the smile and laughter that came from her boyfriend made her the happiest she'd been in a long time. He actually looked youthful and fun to be around, his facial features softened as the night went on; she really loved seeing him happy.

After dinner and bowling, he dropped her off at home, the elation from their night together still boiling in every one of his nerves, traveling through his bloodstream. He loved this girl so much, and the months they had spent together were the best he'd had throughout his twenty years of life. Agreeing to be her partner was the best decision he had ever made, and their connection through dance was the strongest compared to the other girls he was partnered with for a short time before her. He didn't want to dance with another person nor did he want to be with someone else, it was always only her.

"So I guess this is where we end our night," Maka said, dismounting from his bike and handing over his helmet.

He swung his leg over the bike, placing the helmet on the handle afterwards, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I don't think you need to go so soon. You still have another ten minutes your curfew."

She looked behind her, making sure her father wasn't peeking through the window like some pervert, and turned back to Soul, cupping his face between her hands before laying a gentle kiss on his lips. When she made to move away, he captured her lips between his, but, instead of him taking control this time around, she turned the tables on him. She moved just a little to take his bottom lip between hers, sucking on the flesh and threading her fingers through his hair to press him more toward her.

He loved it.

He loved when she took control in any of their physical activities. It made his skin tingle, his heart pound against his chest, and all the blood rushed down to nether regions as he became excited as the seconds passed by. The butterflies in his stomach made him feel like a prepubescent twelve year old boy again. He wanted to lose control with her, and take the next step in their relationship, but knowing she didn't want that just yet held him back.

That and the fact that they were out on the street in front of her house where her father could come out at any minute.

She released him from the kiss, gently placing her forehead on top of his, as they each came down from their high.

"I think I should go," she whispered a few minutes later. Maka moved away from him, gently leaning into his arms instead of moving to make the short walk to her house.

"Yeah, I can see how bad you're trying to leave me and my dashing good looks," he smirked.

"Shut up." She lightly pushed his shoulder before they fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

He took the extra time with her to admire her features, the same ones he fell in love with about a year earlier, about two months into their dance partnership. She was absolutely gorgeous with her intoxicating green eyes, the ash blonde hair that draped around her face, making her appear more mature than she actually was; it was all wonderful. Maka wasn't shaped like the other dancers at the academy, she was more lean and tight. Her muscles were subtle, not as pronounced as the other girls, and facial features were far more delicate. But Maka Albarn was anything but delicate; a fact he learned very soon after meeting her. She was a vicious tyrant who didn't take shit from anyone, but underneath all of that was a gentle giant who turned to putty in his hands when they would dance, a reaction he knew she hated.

"Just promise me one thing before I go," she said, leaning more into his embrace.

"What?"

"Wear a helmet." She ruffled his hair, making it stuck out more, and giggled in he swatted her hand away.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll wear the damn thing. Even though I don't like it," he mumbled the last bit.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be so hardheaded. I'm trying to save your life here. If you get an accident without that damn thing protecting your head you might die, and I'm not ready to lose you just yet."

"Yeah, you'd rather be the one to off me, right?" He gave her a knowing smile.

She giggled in response. "Exactly."

"I love you."

The words came out so naturally, as if they'd said it to each other countless times before when in reality they hadn't - if one didn't count the amount of times he thought of saying them aloud. But when Maka's eyes widened, that was when his mind registered that he uttered those three words he swore off on telling her until he knew for sure that she felt the same way.

"No, I mean I don't...fuck." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his cheeks getting warmer as time passed. "I do love you, but you don't have to say it back if you don't want to. Not really sure why I said that to be-"

"I love you, too."

He looked up at her, a small smile pulling at her lips. "Really?" She nodded. "Cool."

Maka leaned down to kiss him before unwrapping his arms from her waist. "I'll see you tomorrow before the audition."

"Yeah. 'Night."

"Goodnight." She cut through the grass to her porch and turned to wave before entering the house.

Soul mounted his bike, grabbing the helmet out of the side pouch and securing it on his head. He much preferred to feel the wind gusting through his hair but maybe just this once he should listen to his girlfriend. He drove down her street, making a left turn at the stop sign to take the more scenic route home. He loved taking this particular route. The open fields gave him space to think compared to the suffocating feeling of the city. It was nice out here, not many people lived out there so the roads were vacant.

He was able to think of his girlfriend, his wonderfully intoxicating girlfriend, and how she looked when she danced. He loved watching her - in a non-creepy way. She was elegant and beautiful, her movements well placed, thinking out every single one before she would perform.. The entire way she danced was different, she told her story through dance in ways he could never understand, and sometimes he gave her a hard time about it, but she was one of the better girls and he knew Julliard would love her too.

The last thing he remembered after the car hit him was Maka's smiling face and a burning sensation on his left side as he skidded across the pavement.


	5. A Dancer's Heartbreak

**A Dancer's Heartbreak**

Maka was woken up by an obnoxious buzzing noise at around one in the morning. She laid in her bed for a few minutes trying to decipher where the noise was coming from and then it stopped. Her eyes finally snapped open, allowing her to see her surroundings properly, and she noticed a bright light illuminating her room. She rolled over to find that her phone was the one making the buzzing noise because someone kept calling her.

She groggily grabbed the phone from her nightstand, squinting away from the bright light that burned her eyes and waited for them to adjust to the new source of light so she could read the phone number. The number was foreign to her; the person calling was not saved in her contacts, and the area code was for a different city. Usually she didn't answer unknown numbers out of fear they might be a murderer or something more vicious, but tonight something told her she should.

The person turned out to be Wes, Soul's older brother whom she only met once. He was kind, intelligent, talented, and smiled all the time unlike the younger Evans brother. But he didn't call her at one in the morning to deliver happy news, no one ever did. When he told her about Soul's accident, she didn't hear anything afterwards. Her world stopped, she felt like she was suffocating, her heart beating faster, the roar of her blood filling her ears, and all thoughts were replaced with her boyfriend. She always knew that stupid motorcycle of his would be the death of him and her nightmares were coming true.

She hung up the phone, threw the covers off herself and rushed out of her room, slipping her feet into a pair of slip-ons and grabbing Soul's hoodie on her way downstairs. Not bothering to worry about how manic she looked since there was no time for her to shower or brush her teeth, Maka grabbed her fathers car keys, left him a note giving details of where she was going and left the house. She only vaguely remembered the hospital Wes told her, but with there only being two in all of Death City she deduced it had to be the larger of the two; It was the only one that had an urgent care center.

The hospital doors couldn't open fast enough for her and the elevator felt like it took decades to reach the seventh floor. When the doors finally opened she pushed past the nurse and doctor who were discussing one of their patients, earning her a "slow down kid", and rushed to the end of the hallway. She'd only been there once before when Soul had his last accident, but the layout was still engraved in her brain. However, the circumstances were different this time around and her mind was only focused on her boyfriend until one of the nurses stopped her.

"I'm sorry, miss, but only family is allowed beyond this point." She gently pushed Maka away from the urgent care center, but the blonde wasn't having it. She pushed away from the nurse, her hands shaking from the combination of frustration and worry.

"No, I need to see him!" She was on the verge of breaking down and if this nurse didn't let her through, she might go to jail for attempted murder.

"Are you a family member?" The nurse remained calm even though Maka resembled a mad, vicious dog at the moment.

"No, but-"

"Then I'm sorry, but you aren't allowed back there. Here let me escort you to the waiting room." She gently grabbed Maka's arm and began to lead her in the opposite direction.

"Wait, no, please! You don't understand! He's my boyfriend and I need to see him!" She tried fighting against the nurse, but the woman's grip only tightened.

"When he receives the all clear, then you may go back there, but right now it's family only." Maka could hear the frustration in her calm voice.

"But he's my fucking boyfriend! If he dies before I can see him, you'll only have yourself to blame and I will never forgive you!"

Then a man's hand grabbed the nurses shoulder and both women turned around. "It's okay. She can come back and wait with my parents and me." Wes quickly glanced at Maka, and for the first time that night she became aware of how distressed she appeared as she stood there in her pajama shorts and hoodie; she probably resembled a little girl. "She's practically part of the family already. Her and my brother are engaged, but they don't like to talk about it."

The nurse nodded her head in understanding and released Maka's arm. Maka followed Wes in the direction he came from as she rubbed the spot where the nurse held her, positive there would be a bruise come morning.

"Thank you for that." Wes turned and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

He sighed. "He's still in surgery. His bike crushed his left leg, cutting off the circulation, and I'm afraid they're going to have to amputate it." If the tear stains on his cheeks weren't proof enough for how upsetting this situation was to Wes, the grief in his voice gave it away. "I'm just glad it wasn't something worse. That bike of his is a death trap, but I got stuck with an ignorant brother who refuses to listen to me no matter how many times I tell him to sell the damn thing."

"Yeah, I told him the same thing after his last accident. Maybe now he'll actually listen to us."

"He'll have to. The bike was totaled this time and there's no way my parents are letting him get another one."

Maka just nodded, knowing deep down Soul would stop at nothing to buy a new bike no matter what. It was his rebellious side that made him get the bike in the first place, and they could remove his leg but not that part of him. When she looked back up at Wes, she could tell he thought the same thing, but if he were to get another bike, this time she'll make sure he's safer with the damn thing.

An hour and a half later and Soul was finally released from surgery and into the recovery room. Wes gently woke her up from her curled up position on one of the chairs in the waiting room. She stood up and stretched out her cramped muscles before following the older Evans brother to the room Soul was in. Her boyfriend laid unconscious on the bed, an IV sticking in the nook of his forearm. If it weren't for the heart monitor's slow beep, she wouldn't have known he were alive. She walked toward the head of the bed and smoothed back his white bangs splayed across his forehead, his mouth slightly open, noting how peaceful he looked, but the three scars on his face told a different story.

All along his body there are small cuts and the beginnings of bruises. Wes mentioned the car hit him from the right side, making him and his bike skid across the pavement, and if the other driver were going any faster more skin would have been torn off. His left arm had little patches of skin missing because he wasn't wearing his leather jacket at the time. She gently traced her finger on the skin around the small patches, silently promising him she would take care of him from now on. She passed a quick glance to the foot of the bed to confirm what Wes told her when she arrived; there was a lump in the sheets where his right leg was, but next to it from the knee down there wasn't one.

Wes pulled over one of the chairs along the wall reserved for family members so Maka could sit down. She held Soul's hand, awaiting the moment he would wake up. Every few minutes she would wake herself up as she continued to doze off causing either Wes or his parents to suggest she go back home and rest, that he'll probably be awake by the time she returns. But they didn't understand. She wanted to be there when he woke up; she wanted her face to be the first one he saw. She wanted to be sure he knew that she would stand by his side no matter what. Even if that meant she would miss her audition.

When seven rolled around, Soul finally woke up. He blinked a few times, scrunching up his face from the bright hospital lights in the room as the stung his eyes. Gently squeezing Maka's hand, he pried one eye open to look in her direction as a smile spread across his face. "I'm most definitely in heaven."

Before she had the chance to answer, however, Soul's mother stood from across the room and walked toward her son. "You're in the hospital. You were in an accident." His face couldn't have changed any faster as he whipped his head around to look over at his mother who now stood by his bed. "Are you okay? How's your head?" She reached out to touch his forehead but Soul pulled back. Maka squeezed his hand harder, giving him a silent warning to be nice.

"I'm fine, mother."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes! What the fuck is this about an accident?" Eleanor flinched when her youngest son cussed and his father gave a warning "Soul". They weren't big fans of either one of their sons saying such crude words, that wasn't how they were brought up, but they should have known better with Soul. He did have a record of being the rebellious type.

It was Wes who answered his question. "You were driving down that back route you enjoy taking sometimes, and a drunk driver hit you. Lucky for you this was the one time you decided to wear a helmet so you don't have brain damage, but you did come out with road rash on your left arm and few cuts and bruises. There is something else, though."

"What about my bike?" Out of everything, of course his beloved bike would be his main worry.

His mother shook her head. "It was totaled."

"That isn't the worst of it though," Wes quickly added, gripping the end of the hospital bed and looking down at the sheets were the bottom half of Soul's left leg was supposed to be. "The car's wheels crushed the bike, luckily the driver hit the brakes quick enough or else it would have crushed the lower half of your body. However, there was enough pressure on your left leg that it stopped the blood circulation and crushed the bones there."

The elder Evans brother paused and looked back to his brother. Soul stared at him for a few minutes in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" He looked over to Maka for an explanation, but she averted her gaze, becoming more interested in a loose piece of thread on the sheet.

"You were in surgery until about two hours ago. They had to amputate the lower half of your left leg."

Maka looked up in time to see the different range of emotions wash over her boyfriend's face. His brain took a few seconds to digest the news, and when it did he lost control. He went from confusion to realization to anger and finally to frustration. He pushed himself off the bed to look down at his legs, and then fell back down, his hands covering his eyes as he applied pressure to them in order to fight back the tears. Neither his parents nor Wes did anything, only watched as their youngest family member tried to cope with this by himself which Maka didn't find fair and it ticked her off a little. He needed someone especially right now, so she gently placed her hand on his chest to rub soothing circles. Soul needed to know at least one person was there for him.

About twenty minutes passed until Soul moved again. He placed his hand over hers where it was located, initiating Maka to look at him. His eyes were redder than normal, but she still read the concern etched in them. "The audition?" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Maka, you need to go to the fucking audition!"

"No. I want to be here with you. You need me right now." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What the fuck is the matter with you? Forget about me. This is your fucking future! You need to go to that audition, Maka! Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. What time is it? You can still make it if you leave now."

"Can we not talk about this in front of your family?" The anger in her emerald eyes shut him up. She released his hand and stood up with a cringe-worthy scrape of her chair. "I'm going down to the vending machines. I haven't eaten all morning."

She wasn't gone five minutes before Soul and his parents began arguing, hearing them half way down the hallway, and Maka decided she should take her sweet time getting food. When the elevator doors shut - she was the only one in it - she leaned on the back wall and stared at her reflection to take in her appearance. The girl looked ridiculous in a sweater that was far too big for her, pink and blue polka dot pajama shorts (thank goodness they weren't see through), and a pair of black slip-on Keds. Her hair looked greasy and her face was shiny. She looked terrible. But Maka had to come when Wes called her. Her boyfriend was injured and she didn't know if he would be okay or not, the fear of losing him was too great for her not to come.

But then Soul yelled at her because she didn't want to go to the stupid audition. Why couldn't he understand that he was more important? The audition could wait until next year, she needed to make sure her fucking boyfriend was safe. The world could go up in flames, and she would still choose him over everything else. But then again, she should have expected it, he thinks about her needs before his own no matter the situation. If anything happened to her on the way to the hospital, he would have found a way to leave that hospital bed to see her and make sure she was okay. Of course, he would want her to go to the audition rather than staying in a hospital because of him. He knew better than anyone how much she worked for this opportunity the past few months, and he knew how much she wanted him to join her.

But right now, Soul was the only thing on her mind. Seeing the way his parents and brother just stood there and watched as he broke down told her he needed someone to be there for him. Granted, Wes probably would have stood up to the plate if she weren't there, but he called her for a reason. He told her that morning he wouldn't be able to stay all day due to work - which he should be leaving for soon - and other previous obligations. And his parents would be leaving soon too since his mother had to greet the talent scout from Juilliard and his father was the CEO of a big name company she forgot the name of. There wouldn't be anyone there for him other than the nurses and doctors, and what good could they do for him? They didn't know him like she did which was why she had to stay.

Thirty minutes passed by before Maka made her way back up to Soul's room, the elevator felt like it took longer compared to earlier. When she walked in, his family was long gone, and Soul was sitting up in bed looking out the window. He turned his head when he heard her softly knock on the door to announce her presence.

"Did you bring me back anything?" he asked.

Maka snorted, rolling her eyes, but tossed him a bag of his favorite ranch chips as she sat down in the chair from earlier. "Is food all you ever think about?"

"I was in surgery all morning, when the fuck do you think I had time to eat?"

She didn't respond. They both sat in silence, only the crunching sounds from the chips and the noises seeping in the room from the doctors and nurses in the hall disturbing them. He scarfed down the chips before she finished her chocolate bar which meant he stared at the last bite, waiting for her to offer it to him.

"Here," she said as she handed the little piece of candy to him. He snatched it and popped it into his mouth, letting out a small sigh of relief that made Maka smile. "Fatty. Does this mean you'll share your hospital food with me?"

"Fuck no! I need all the food I can get!" She placed her elbows on the bed to lean in closer to him, folding her legs up underneath her, and gave her best puppy dog eyes. One look at her and he threw his head back laughing. "You really go all out when you want something, don't you?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, I guess you can steal one bite. The food in hospital's are shitty anyways." She leaned in further to lay a gentle peck on his lips. As soon as he picked his left arm off the bed to wrap it around her, his face scrunched up in pain and the back of his head hit the wall with a loud thud. "Ah, fuck!"

Maka pulled back, panic rising. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No. It's my arm. Just… let me put this one behind you." He wrapped his right arm around her waist, and dropped the other one gently on the bed. When he was done, his hand threaded through her hair and pulled her in closer. "There that's better. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," she smiled.

She closed the gap between them, the taste of chocolate and ranch swirling in their mouths. It felt nice to be with him like this, even if the circumstances weren't what she expected. She was here with him and that's all she needed.

This was where she belonged.


End file.
